


Against the Wall

by Johnnlocked (Krullenbol2602)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, John is a horny bastard, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, and Sherlock loves it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:37:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3182315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krullenbol2602/pseuds/Johnnlocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is brilliant and John is horny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Against the Wall

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, for not being sorry.

John can’t wait. Sherlock has been on absolute fire today, one brilliant deduction after another, two chases through London alleyways and a stand-off which nearly cost them their lives. They can hear the police cars coming closer while Sherlock ties the man’s wrists with his belt and the smile Sherlock gives him is simply radiant. And John has had enough. 

Sherlock barely has time to react as John pulls him away from the lowlife that now lies unconscious and bound on the cold ground. He keeps his grip tight on Sherlock’s wrist and somewhere in the back of his mind, John notes that the detective doesn’t fight him. He trusts him. And somehow that makes John even more desperate. 

He presses Sherlock’s back against the wall, hard, out of sight and hidden by the darkness. John can see Sherlock opening his mouth in protest but John claims his mouth as his own. Sherlock groans in his mouth as John lets his fingers trail the waistband of his posh trousers. The lack of a belt is really helping him now.  
John is already aching and the pressure against Sherlock’s thigh leaves him breathless. But he doesn’t pull away. 

One hand is holding Sherlock by his hips, pressing his against the wall, as he ravages his mouth. The other hand is now expertly undoing the button and flies. Sherlock moans sinfully as John wraps his fingers around Sherlock’s now throbbing erection.  
‘Quiet,’ John gasps as he begins to move his hand. He lets go of Sherlock’s hip for a moment to work himself out of his trousers and the sudden cold air on his skin makes him shiver. 

They had to be quiet. John can hear the police cars getting close now. Won’t be long…

‘John…’

Sherlock’s plea stops him from thinking and with mutual gasps, they press their mouths together again. ‘Be quiet,’ John hisses again and then he sinks down to his knees. Without any other warning, he sucks Sherlock down and he can practically feel the younger man struggling to stay silent.  
John knows him. He knows what makes Sherlock gasp, quiver and moan and he has no qualms doing this to him now.  
He cups his own erection as he gives a slow stroke of his tongue over the head.  
‘Oh God…John, please,’  
Sherlock’s legs are trembling now and if they had more time, John would have pulled off to smile, to kiss those full red lips and to properly prepare them both for more. 

But he can hear the slamming of car doors in the distance and Greg’s voice, is carried over the wind. He has to hurry.  
John grabs Sherlock’s hips again with his free hand, hard enough to leave bruises for him to fuss over in the morning – Sherlock will no doubt flaunt them as much as he can like he always does – and he takes him down as far as he can.  
All the warning he gets before Sherlock shoots his load into John’s mouth, is a hand in his hair, struggling to hold on and the sudden rush is enough for John to come, lips still wrapped around Sherlock, sucking and holding him in deep. 

They are still gasping when they hear Lestrade – closer now – calling out their names, a hint of panic to his voice.  
John wipes his hand on the bottom half of his trouser leg, hoping that the mud of their earlier chases will cover it up. Sherlock helps him up after tucking himself away, a faint smile on his lips. John can see his eyes are glistening and John feels himself answering with a lopsided grin.  
‘Come on,’ he mutters and he moves away from Sherlock to check up on their convict – still unconscious, thank God!  
This time Sherlock grabs him, pulling his close and pressing his mouth on his. John knows Sherlock must taste himself on his lips, but he doesn’t seem to care. On the contrary, the kiss turns rather heated, very fast and they only break up when they hear the disgruntled voice of Greg Lestrade behind them. 

‘Jesus, can you two bloody wait until you get home?’


End file.
